


Heavy

by DaSly fics (i_write_hurt_not_comfort)



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, National Suicide Prevention Day 2018, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_hurt_not_comfort/pseuds/DaSly%20fics
Summary: The railings were cold.His hands, nevertheless, still gripped them, like his narrow, meaningless life depended on it. He shook against them, a shudder running down his spine. A shiver, perhaps. He was too numb to know the difference.-(late) fic for National Suicide Prevention Day-





	Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> i originally started writing this for Suicide Prevention Day which was the 10th September, but i fell behind it. so here, it is, a week or so late. and yes, the title is named after the linkin park song.  
> content warnings: swearing, references to drug abuse/drinking/smoking, strong implications of death/suicide, a suicide attempt. if death/suicide is something that triggers you, i'd highly recommend not reading this fic. it's a sensitive topic for me as well so please don't read it if it's not for you.  
> maybe i'll post something happy one day. but until that happens, enjoy~
> 
> (disclaimer: i do not own pandora hearts/Elliot/Leo)

The railings were cold.

His hands, nevertheless, still gripped them, like his narrow, meaningless life depended on it. He shook against them, a shudder running down his spine. A shiver, perhaps. He was too numb to know the difference.

Trembling. Trembling with anticipation.

Wind brushed through his hair, blocking and blurring his already obscured view of the horizon of the city. His perception of the world, even.

The cloud shrouded sky, a dull grey, concealed all sunlight, a bitter afternoon breeze ripping through the air.

He was still numb, though. And heavy, his arms weighing him down like lead.

Tentatively, as he drew in a sharp breath, he leant forward. Not much, but just about enough to glance over the edge of the building.

And he glanced down.

The drop, no less than 40 metres up, seemed less climactic than he’d anticipated. Nonetheless, the sick, nauseating feeling of dread still resided in the pit of his stomach. Like a rock, weighing him down further.

It was this. _This._ This is what he’d amounted to.

In all 16 years of his life - short, pathetic, _pointless_ life - _this_ was his legacy.

Briefly, his mind flashed back to his home.

_“Home.”_

More like an orphanage, run by a stupid aristocracy only after money and the occasional sympathy sponsor. Some of the residents might miss him, but it wasn’t enough of an incentive _not_ to do this.

Snapping out of his trance, he lifted a shaky foot, swinging it over the metal and lowering his frail body beneath the top bar of the rail. With another deep breath, he stood up again, and brought the other foot to the other side of the railing.

And once again, he looked down.

The drop hadn’t changed. It was still there, menacing, but comforting.

He didn’t realise his grip tightened.

He also didn’t realise when a single tear slipped from his eye, trailing down his cheek. The wind quickly dried it, though, and whispered the sweet nothings he wanted to hear.

Things that were incentives _to_ jump.

Yes, jump.

His life was pointless anyway. He had no friends, no parents, no siblings, no family, no one who loved him. And all the books in the world couldn’t save him from that. That was just how things were.

_This_ was the easiest way out.

Suicide.

Efficient, easy, and bonus: it would put an end to all the shit in his life.

He wouldn’t _need_ to be tormented by bullies. He wouldn’t _need_ to be haunted by thoughts of crippling self-hate. He wouldn’t _need_ to drown his self-loathing in booze and cigarettes and drugs on a daily basis.

Because he’d be dead.

_This_ was his incentive.

Nothing held him back anymore. His mind was made up.

_This_ is how his life would end.

No, scrap that. This is how he would end his _own_ life.

Forcefully, his loosened his grip on the railings, leaned forward and-

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He froze, jolting internally. His reflexes kicked in, and before he could control it, his hands returned to gripping the bar behind him like steel.

Who the _hell_ was _this_?

“Oi! Are you even listening to me?!” They yelled again, taking a step forward. “I _said_ what are you doing?!”

“I could ask the same thing,” he replied caustically, anger boiling inside him that he’d just been _stopped_ -

“That doesn’t matter,” they said bitterly. “Turn around when I’m speaking to you!”

Reluctantly - _oh so reluctantly -_ he turned around. “I’ll ask again. Why are _you_ here?”

“I saw you from my Maths class. My name’s Elliot, by the way.”

“And I care _because_?”

“Because I just saved your life, you idiot!”

_That_ got him.

The noirette sneered, locking both hands around the railing but remaining on the other side of it. He felt anger boil up inside him.

Who the _hell_ did this guy think he _was_?

“Don’t make _assumptions_ like _that_ ,” he snarled. “You have no _right_ to decide that!”

“Step _away_ from the edge.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I _refuse_ to let you end your life right here!”

“That’s not your decision to make!”

“Well I’m here now, so it damn-well is!” Elliot yelled, taking a step forward. “So you either step away now, or I’ll call the police on you!”

“What the _hell_?!”

“You heard me!”

His hands were twitching with anger, and he practically _itched_ to punch him.

But despite that, there was a strange fluttering in his chest, and the nervousness in pit of his stomach was exacerbated by this.

Then, without noticing he’d even done it, he lowered himself underneath the bar, and - quivering with every breath - just took one step away from the edge.

He could feel Elliot’s gaze burning into the back of his head. But for some reason, it softened. Just slightly, however noticeably as well.

Simultaneously, Elliot advanced forward too.

“Take one more step in my direction and I swear I’ll jump!” he threatened, staring at the drop, and for the first time in that entire endeavour, his heart began pounding out of his chest.

And he felt… dread?

“Do you really want to end your life that badly?”

… _huh?_

“Are you looking for a purpose? Is that it?”

“I…” he stammered, too lost in his own train of thoughts to formulate a coherent response.

“If you promise not to jump, then…” Elliot’s words began trailing off, his gaze flitting to the horizon, just past the noirette. “ _I_ will give it you. Just give me a chance, dammit!”

It sounded incredibly cringey, and they both knew that.

However…

It didn’t take away from the seemingly endless stream of silent tears which had began to unknowingly pour down the other’s face.

A strained sob erupted from his throat; it was only then that he realised he was crying in the first place.

“Come here,” Elliot whispered, a regretful smile forming across his face as he proceeded to where the other stood. One arm wrapped around his shoulders, he slowly pulled the other into a tight, reassuring hug.

His face fell into Elliot’s shoulder, tears seeping into the fabric of his shirt with every inaudible choke or sob or sniff.

He’d never let his guard down like this before, but whatever goddamn emotions he’d felt had ambushed him, leaving his drowning in them, with no other choice but to just… cry.

And so he did.

For half an hour straight, he simply did that, sobbing into Elliot’s shoulder with hitched breaths and discreet sniffs.

Elliot just felt that he was broken. Empty, even.

It wasn’t until after that period that he ran out of tears, breathing out a deep sigh of so much pent-up frustration.

“Why would you do this for me?” he sobbed, finally lifting his head from Elliot’s shoulder and immediately averting his eyes to avoid crossing their gazes. “I… y-you don’t even know my _name_.”

“Maybe not,” Elliot shrugged, folding arms over his chest and looking off into the distance. “But I just… for some reason, I… couldn’t let you die.”

The other fell totally speechless.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Elliot asked, facing him once again. “I never asked.”

A tiny smile began tugging at his lips, a feeling of warmth spreading across his chest.

A sensation he hadn’t felt in over five years, if he recalled correctly.

With a sharp, but semi-confident breath, he answered. “Leo. Just… Leo.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
> feedback is always welcome~


End file.
